Page 10 of The Mountain Man's Siren

She runs her fingers along the wooden chess board I carved that’s sitting on the coffee table. Most of the furniture in these cabins is made with my own hands as well. Every detail is chosen with the hopes that it will soothe and comfort a hurting veteran and those who love him or her.

She gives me a small smile. “Once a hero, always a hero.”

“That’s what I love about veterans,” I explain as she follows me onto the porch. I lock the door and hide the key again.

“I wasn’t talking about the veterans,” she says huskily. “I was talking about you.” Then before I can respond, she stands on her tiptoes and presses a chaste kiss to my cheek. Without another word, she turns and starts walking in the direction we came.

Everly

By the timewe make it back to Owen’s cabin, the snow has picked up. I’m cold and wet but I’m at peace.

Wandering through the forest with Owen in silence was oddly relaxing. He hasn’t said a word since I called him a hero. I saw the guilt that flashed in his eyes when I said that. He doesn’t feel like one. I wish I could make him see himself through my eyes. He’s a good and caring man, even if he tries to tell himself that he’s not.

My teeth chatter as I step onto Owen’s porch. It’s funny how just yesterday I entered the wrong cabin. Or maybe it was the right one. Because even if he doesn’t realize it, Owen needs me. He needs someone to show him a bit of compassion and remind him that it’s OK to start living again.

He lets us into the house then frowns. “Dammit, I shouldn’t have kept you out so long. You’re freezing.”

“N-no,” I protest. “I had f-fun.”

Ignoring my words, Owen scoops me into his arms and stalks toward the master bathroom. He’s carrying me again and if my toes weren’t numb, I think I’d enjoy it more.

He yanks open the shower stall and steps inside, turning the water on. He puts his back to it as the cold stream hits him.

I shiver again, hating that he’s cold. After a moment, he turns and I’m enveloped by the warm water.

“Can you stand?” He barks the words and for the first time, I realize he’s worried about me.

I nod and manage to put my weight on my legs. But I still can’t stop shivering. We weren’t out there for that long, but I guess my body isn’t happy. I don’t always respond well to extreme temperatures. I should have warned Owen and feel a stab of guilt that I didn’t. But I just wanted to be with him. I wanted to be normal for a few minutes.

As soon as my feet touch the floor, Owen’s hands are on me. He’s yanking off my coat and scarf. He discards the wet items on the shower floor. Next comes my long t-shirt and tank.

I shiver again when I realize I’m standing in front of Owen in just my bra. His chest heaves when he sees my nipples are sharp little points against the nearly transparent purple fabric. Still, he wrestles the wet bra from my clammy skin easily.

As soon as he does, he pauses long enough to stroke a thumb across one of my nipples. “I want to fuck these tits one day.”

My breathing speeds up and it has nothing to do with how cold I am. I wonder if this means he’s going to act on the desire he’s been keeping caged. “I want that.” My voice doesn’t sound like my own anymore. It’s needy and breathless and filled with so much desire.

He closes his eyes and reaches for the waistband of my jeans. It takes a bit of shimmying, but he helps me out of them. Then he reaches for my underwear. I’m glad I’m soaked all the way through, so he hasn’t realized I’m weird yet.

He starts to reach for the curls between my thighs then stops himself. “Push me away and call me an asshole, sweetheart. Do it now before I ruin both of us.”

7

EVERLY

“No.”

The forceful denial might damn us both, but I don’t care. If I’m going to hell, I want it to be in his arms. Because the way I’m burning up inside, I think I’m already there.

I step forward, out of the warm spray and tug on his t-shirt. He’s still dressed in his cold, wet clothes because he was determined to take care of me first. That’s the kind of selfless man he is.

He lets me help him out of the t-shirt and I run my hands along his broad chest. Like me, his nipples are hard points. I press a kiss to one before I find myself backed against the shower wall. “No, sweetheart. I don’t get mine until you get yours.”

He presses kisses to the side of my throat, nipping at the place where my neck and shoulder meet. “You turn me the fuck on, Goldilocks. You didn’t know that when you stumbled in here. You didn’t know the big bad wolf was going to touch your pretty pussy, did you?”

I whimper at his dirty words and clench my thighs together. The aching need is growing there. I just wish my body could catch on.

His hand skims down the side of my breast and across my lumpy stomach. He caresses the skin there, not caring or noticing the cellulite and stretchmarks. But when he touches the place between my legs, I push against his shoulder. “Don’t.”

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